


Always, Always

by Drywall37



Series: 91 Days A/B/O AU [1]
Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Could be read as romantic if y'all want, Cuddling, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nest sharing, Omega Angelo Lagusa | Avilio Bruno, Omega Behavior, Omega Corteo, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Heat Sharing, Platonic Relationships, i am obsessed with a/b/o worldbuilding and nothing else tbh, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drywall37/pseuds/Drywall37
Summary: In the middle of the night he woke up, dizzy and dehydrated and sweaty. His stomach hurt, his limbs were shaky, he felt like his body was melting. He whimpered, curling on his side. Tears streamed down his face and he couldn’t stop shaking, crying, sobbing.





	Always, Always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Friends (Y'all Know What's Up)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Friends+%28Y%27all+Know+What%27s+Up%29).



Corteo started his heats first. He was 12 years old and didn’t really know anything about dynamics, especially since his mom was a beta, but he was 12 years old and he was at Angelo’s house playing games and teasing Luce and everything was fine until it wasn’t. 

 

He doesn’t actually remember his first heat, just a blaze of sweat and comfortable fabrics and foods and the soothing voices of his best friend’s family. 

 

All in all, it was good. He had a few more after that, all gentle and rolling if a little uncomfortable, before Angelo’s heats started up. 

 

Angelo’s first heat went nothing like Corteo’s. He’d spiked a fever that morning, but his parents were out of town so Corteo came over to help out. They spent the day lounging together, reading and playing cards and entertaining Luce. Then, when the sun set and Luce had fallen asleep on the couch and been moved to his bedroom, Angelo slunk off to bed himself. He was exhausted, and he hadn’t even done anything all day. 

 

He fell asleep, fitfully, for a couple of hours. 

 

In the middle of the night he woke up, dizzy and dehydrated and sweaty. His stomach hurt, his limbs were shaky, he felt like his body was melting. He whimpered, curling on his side. Tears streamed down his face and he couldn’t stop shaking, crying, sobbing. 

 

Corteo was asleep on the floor. He’d stayed over because of the heavy snow, and because he didn’t want to leave Angelo home alone with Luce and a fever. Angelo pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, muffling his sobs. 

 

He doesn’t want to wake Corteo, but he can’t stop crying and he can't stop  _hurting._

* * *

 

“Angel...o?” Corteo mumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Moonlight pours in from a window, casting weird shadows and distorting the world, but Corteo can see Angelo, curled on his side in the bed, trembling. 

 

Frowning, Corteo stands up and leans over his friend. He reaches out a hand, setting it gently on Angelo’s arm. The pale boy flinches away, a sob getting caught in his throat. 

 

Alarmed, Corteo stumbles to the other side of the room and turns on the lights, rushing back to his friend. His face is flushed, his amber eyes hazy, skin sweaty. He’s curled tightly into a ball, whimpering and crying and clutching his stomach. 

 

“Angelo, what’s wrong?” He whispers, but as soon as he does he catches a whiff of his friend’s scent and recognizes something familiar in it. 

 

A heat. Angelo’s first. 

 

“It hurts…” His friend whispers, voice cracking. 

 

Corteo’s heart hurts. He sits down on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to help but wanting,  _ needing  _ to do  _ something  _ to help his best friend. 

 

“Is- Is there anything I can do?” Corteo asks, hands hovering just barely above Angelo’s trembling form. 

 

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Angelo sobs, shaking his head and pressing his face into the pillow. 

 

“Okay. Okay, I’m going to… I’m going to make a nest for you, okay?” 

 

Angelo doesn’t respond, so Corteo slowly starts gathering pillows, blankets, towels. He pauses outside the door to Angelo’s parents room, but decides that his friend  _ needs  _ the comfort his parents scents will supply. He takes a pillow from each side of the bed and slinks out, shame filling him but his instinct to help his friend overpowering it. 

 

He builds the nest, and he knows it’s not great because he’s only built a few and they’re all built for him, not Angelo, but he also knows how comforting nests can be. He constructs it with care around his friend, building comfort, building something safe. 

 

Angelo quivers the entire time, weak sobs wracking his body. He doesn’t seem to be aware of Corteo working around him, but his sobbing slows down, and he relaxes a bit. He’s still crying, but he curls up in the nest and wraps himself in blankets. 

 

Corteo carefully brushes his hand over Angelo’s forehead, wiping away sweaty locks and smoothing wrinkles. He stands, walking into the kitchen and filling a bowl with water and picking up some towels. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, exactly, since he’s never helped someone else through a heat, but he knows he wants to help his friend. 

 

He turns around and almost drop the bowl, startled to find Luce standing in his pyjamas, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

 

“Corteo?” He says, a question coloring the name. Corteo smiles, shuffling the items in his hands so he has a free one to ruffle Luce’s hair. He’s about to tell him to go back to bed when a thought occurs. 

 

“Luce, do you remember a few months back, when I got, uh, sick? My heat?”

 

Luce nods, looking a little confused. 

 

“Angelo- he’s having a heat, his first one. He needs some comfort. Would you mind helping?” 

 

Luce lights up, nodding. He pads behind Corteo into Angelo’s room, waiting and shuffling back and forth on his feet while Corteo sets up the bowl. He dips a rag in the cool water, wiping down Angelo’s neck, behind his ears, his wrists. His scent glands. 

 

Turning, he gestures for Luce to approach. “Climb on kiddo,” he says, smiling and helping Luce climb into the nest. Luce curls up in front of Angelo, facing him. He squirms under Angelo’s arms, tucking himself under his older brothers chin. Angelo sniffles, pressing his nose against Luce’s soft hair, pulling the boy close. 

 

Corteo rearranges the nest a little, slipping in behind Angelo. He wraps an arm over Angelo, and over Luce, curling up close. It’s not much, and he can tell that Angelo is still hurting, but he relaxes slightly, his breathing slowing. Angelo dozes off, curled in the warmth of his best friend and brother and the comforting scents, if not presenses, of his parents, and when he wakes his skin has cooled and his pain has eased. 

 

He has one, maybe two more heats after that, all as painful. His parents are there, for the others, and Luce, and Corteo. They ease it, but it hurts and hurts and when his mom and his dad and  _ Luce  _ are gone, it hurts so much more because he can revel in the scents of them as much as he wants but he’s always,  _ always  _ going to smell the coppery tang of their blood. 

 

He spends his heats alone. He doesn’t share nests, he doesn’t even  _ build  _ nests, and it hurts and he misses his family and it never goes away, it never stops. 

 

But always,  _ always  _ there was Corteo. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> heh rip
> 
> Angelo has particularly painful heats for Reasons That Will Be Explained In Later Fics


End file.
